Trigger Warning! Descriptions of being trapped in one’s own body

Lenora was floating aimlessly. There was no sense of direction, no sense of being anywhere as she was buffeted along a sea of nothingness. I can’t feel anything. Where am I? 

Lenora was neither hot nor cold. She couldn’t see or hear anything. There was nothing to smell or taste. There was just…nothing.

She tried to lift her hand, tried to turn it but couldn’t. I can’t move! I remember I was dying. Is this what it feels like to be truly dead? No, it can’t be. I was dead once, and it was nothing like this. I’m lost. If I’m lost, I must be somewhere…but where? Oh, Ariadne help me! I’m lost!

Lenora tried to open her eyes, but they felt so heavy. I’m trapped. Oh, Tyrone, my love! Where are ye? I’m trapped and alone. Why can’t I move?

“My darling Lenora!”

Lenora would have gasped at the sorrow she heard in that beloved voice if she could have gotten her lungs to cooperate. Grandda…don’t cry. I’ll be all right…I think…if I could just move. If I could just open my eyes, ye would see I’ll be all right. 

Lenora felt something warm and slightly wet on her brow. I can feel that! There is nothing around me…but I felt that. It was a kiss. Grandda’s kiss. Oh, Grandda! I’ve got to move. Somehow, I must. He needs to see I’m…

What are ye, Lenora? she asked herself. Ye know you’re not dead, but are ye really alive? What ye are, old girl, is stuck, that’s what.

“Thank you, Lenora, for showing me how to open my heart again. If it hadn’t been for you, my life would have been a lonelier, bleaker one. I love you, sweetheart.”

Once again, Lenora tried to move, to twitch a finger, as she heard another familiar voice. Mathilda! Oh, Mathilda, I love ye, too. Please hear me. I’m trapped and can’t move. What is happening to me? Real and true panic engulfed Lenora as she became more and more aware that she was thought to no longer be living. Again and again, she tried to open her eyes, to crook a finger, to take a breath, but nothing would work; her body betrayed her in every way possible. For the first time in a long time, Lenora was truly frightened.

“Grandda loves ye, Lenora, forever and ever.” Lenora felt strong, loving arms encircle her, making some of the panic melt.

I love ye, too, Grandda. I can feel your arms around me. Maybe if ye hold me long and tight enough, I can come out of this…whatever this is. If only I could make ye feel my love, ye would see I’m not dead. To hear the desolation in his voice made Lenora want to weep, but she couldn’t muster even a single tear.

“She’s warm! She…she was brought here hours ago, but she’s warm.”

Keep going with that, Grandda! Dead people aren’t warm, which means I really am alive. Ye said I was brought here. Where is here, Grandda? I was in the hospital…but have I been moved elsewhere? Lenora’s mind flashed back to her last memory. Tyrone was holding me. He was told I was dying…and I, too, believed I was dying. His arms were around me, and he kissed me. I told him goodbye and…and everything went black…until now. Oh, Ariadne, what is happening to me?

Remembering the grief-stricken expression on her beloved wolf’s face and the way he’d held her ripped Lenora’s heart to shreds. Oh, Wolfman, I’m so, so sorry! I thought I was dying…but I’m alive. Tyrone, I’m alive, and I need ye to know that. If only I could make ye know, sweetheart. Ye and the wee ones need to know. The thought of her family grieving for her redoubled Lenora’s efforts to move something, anything. She tried to reach for Tyrone with telepathy, but there was only silence. I must be too weak. I can’t move, and my magic has apparently been weakened. Och, Tyrone, my darling, I’m trying! I promise ye, I’m trying.

Lenora felt panic grip her again as another thought struck her. Did ye survive my leaving, Wolfman? Ye said ye wouldn’t be able to, but I made ye promise. I…I think ye did survive because I would know otherwise. Even now, I would feel it if ye were gone. Tyrone, my beloved, stay strong. Och, please, darling, stay strong. I will find a way back to ye, I swear it. I will find a way back.

When another pair of arms slipped around her, it gave Lenora the sensation of being gently sandwiched between two people. Mathilda was holding her, too, while her grandda talked about that night how, as a child, she’d been afraid of a particularly tumultuous storm. I remember that night, Grandda, and I remember what I said about being part of a love sandwich. I guess it came about, but…och, I wish it didn’t happen this way.

Terrifyingly quickly and without warning, the blackness appeared to once again swallow her. How can I make ye understand? I’m alive! I need to make ye understa–

Lenora fell into the abyss, awareness abandoning her completely.

Lenora was, once again, unaware of time and place as the floating sensation returned. Somehow, her awareness was a little sharper, and the void wasn’t as empty. This time, her lungs cooperated, at least a little, making her able to take in a shallow breath of air. With it came the smell of someplace old an unused. A chill slowly seeped into her, too, and she would have shivered if her body had been able to do so.

Once again, she tried to move her hand, and once again was unsuccessful. Still trapped…still lost..but I’m somewhere different now. I can feel it. Oh, Ariadne, where have I been taken?

Someone was beside her. She felt strange hands handling her hair. Someone was brushing it.

“Okay now. I’ll be very gentle. You’ll be so happy when all these tangles are gone.”

The voice and cadence of it was strange. There was a dreamy, distant quality to it that made Lenora wonder if the owner of it was somehow disconnected from the real world. It was familiar to her though, and Lenora was certain she’d heard it before. The hands were large and unfamiliar, but they were infinitely gentle as they handled her hair. Och, that does feel good. My hair must, indeed, be one big snarl. But who are ye and why are ye brushing my hair?

Sometimes when she and Tyrone were alone, he loved to brush her hair. He’d run the brush down every lock with slow, deliberate, and loving motions while speaking to her in soothing, tender tones. It always made her feel so loved, and Lenora found it extremely erotic. She always melted under his touch. Afterward, he would carry her to their bed where they made passionate love.

I’ll just pretend it’s Tyrone brushing my hair. Och, Tyrone, my love, I don’t know for certain, but I could be in big trouble here. I’m among strangers in some cold, musty place. I’m alive, Wolfman! I’m alive, and I must somehow make ye realize it.

As the brush continued to slide through Lenora’s hair accompanied by the tuneless singing of the man beside her, the blackness took her once more.

Awareness seeped back into Lenora. The smell of the dank place bit into her sense of smell, the chill making her shiver. Oh, Ariadne, I’m shivering! Can it be that my body is starting to work properly again? Lenora willed her lungs to expand and was finally able to fully pull air into them. Oh, thank ye, Ariadne! I can breathe again. I’m coming back. Och, thank the ancients for that.

Lenora realized someone was holding her hand. She instinctively knew it wasn’t Tyrone and suspected it was the strange man who’d been brushing her hair. How long ago was that? How much time has passed since I…died? Again, she tried to move her hand and was elated when it finally gave a twitch. The strange man tightened his fingers around her hand, giving it a squeeze.

“That’s it, Lenora! You’re coming back. I was getting so worried about you.”

That voice is familiar, but who is he? Where the hell am I?

Lenora tried to open her eyes and was able to lift her lids slightly. They slid fully closed, but when she tried again, they lifted with lesser effort before slipping closed again.

“She’s waking up! Valerie, she’s waking up,” the strange man said excitedly.

“Let me see, Allen,” came the familiar voice of her sister-in-law. Lenora felt Valerie take her hand. “Lenora, if you can hear me, squeeze my hand.”

Lenora willed her fingers to move, her effort paying off when she made them contract around Valerie’s hand. They felt stiff, but she was finally able to control them.

“Open your eyes, Lenora. Can you do that for me?” she heard Valerie ask as her hands moved gently over Lenora’s face and then her hair.

Lenora lifted her eyelids, blinked a couple times, then slowly opened them again. This time, she was able to keep them open without them wanting to slide closed.

“There you are,” the strange man said softly, his fingers lightly stroking the back of her hand.

“Who…?” Lenora’s lips formed the words but no sound came. She tried to swallow, but her throat felt as dry and rough as sandpaper.

“Here. This will help.” Lenora’s eyes followed the man’s hand as he fished a piece of ice out of a bucket. She nearly sobbed in pleasure as he brought it to her lips. Her mouth welcomed the cold wetness of the ice, the uncomfortable feeling in her throat easing slightly as a couple drops went down.

“Who are ye?” Lenora whispered weakly. “Where am I?”

“You’re someplace safe, Lenora,” the man said, his fingers gently grasping her hand. “As for me, well, I’m your number one fan, actually. My name is Allen.”

“Number one fan?” Oh, hell, where had she heard that before? Crazy Annie Wilkes said that to Paul Sheldon in Stephen King’s book, Misery. As she studied the man next to her, memories started swirling in her mind. Her eyes widened, and she tried to shrink back. “I…I remember…”

“I won’t hurt you, Lenora. Please don’t be scared. I won’t hurt you.”

Valerie came into view, stepping beside Allen and putting a calming hand on his shoulder. “Allen, it’s okay. I’m sure Lenora will realize you won’t hurt her. She’s just groggy and confused right now. She’s been through a lot.”

Lenora blinked in stupefaction as she tried to get her bearings. “Where am I?”

“You’re someplace safe. You were brought here so I could take care of you,” the man called Allen said, reaching for her hand again. When she pulled it back, Allen looked hurt and sad. “I won’t hurt you, Lenora. Please don’t be scared of me. You got really sick, so you came here so I could take care of you. Please don’t be scared.”

“I want to go home,” Lenora said, her voice growing more firm as strength started to return. Her surroundings came into sharper relief, but part of her wished she could sink back into unawareness. A scream bubbled up inside her, manifesting itself into a frightened and bewildered squeak. She was in a cell, which meant she was locked away somewhere. “I’m being held prisoner. Oh, Ariadne, no!” She fisted her hands over her mouth and squeezed her eyes tightly shut.

Valerie snaked her arms around Lenora and rubbed her back in an attempt to comfort her. “Allen, why don’t you go upstairs and refill the pitcher, okay? I’ll talk to Lenora for a while, then you can come back.”

“But I..”

“Allen, that’s best right now, okay?” Valerie said.

“Well…okay. If you say so.”

“Valerie, I want to go home,” Lenora repeated when Allen was gone. “Please tell me what’s going on and why I’m here…wherever this is. Why an I in a jail cell?”

Valerie burst into tears, causing Lenora’s heart to sink. Valerie wasn’t one to cry very often, so Lenora knew such an outburst meant they were both in serious trouble.

“Valerie, what is going on?” Lenora asked in an agitated whisper.

“It’s a long story, Lenora, but the long and short of it is Shane Clayton. He’s trapped us both behind the proverbial 8-ball. Welcome to Hell, Lenora.”